


The Fray Shall Well Become Me

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Aftercare, Boot Worship, Daddy Play, Dirty Talk, Face Slapping, Feelings, M/M, Masochism, Sadism, Top Drop, kicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan's got a deep, dark secret that he has to reveal to Arin. He just hopes that it doesn't mean the end of their relationship - any of their relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fray Shall Well Become Me

**Author's Note:**

> Face slapping is dangerous, kids. Do your research before trying it. 
> 
> Please tell me that I'm not the only sadist who has had the whole "I am a horrible human being" panic, right? Right?

Dan was pacing. He wished that he could stop pacing, but he was just full of so much nervous energy, and if he didn't pace, he might explode. His new boots clunked on the vinyl flooring of the grump office, and their downstairs neighbors would probably complain, if they were still around. 

Which was, admittedly, pretty unlikely, considering it was almost one in the morning, but hey, maybe there were some weirdos like Dan and Arin. 

“Dude, you're starting to freak me out a bit,” Arin said, watching Dan. He was seated on on the couch, his laptop in his lap. “What's going on?”

Dan cleared his throat, stopping mid-pace. He dug his fingers into his hair, balling them up, and then dragged them down to his face. He took a deep breath, acutely aware of the feel of his chest filling up, of the brush of his leather jacket against the waistband of his jeans, the way his hair was falling over his face. He was trying to capture this moment in his mind as well as he could, after the last two weeks of anxiety.

The last moment when Arin wasn't afraid of him. Wasn't disgusted by him.

“Arin, I, uh... I have some stuff I need to tell you. Some not nice stuff.” Dan rubbed the back of his neck, and bit his lip. He couldn't believe he was talking about this. Couldn't believe he was even admitting to any of it. But Arin wanted honesty about everything, and fucked if Dan wasn't going to do his best to at least respect that. 

Even if it meant the end of all of this... wonderful whatever it was. 

“Lay it on me, dude.” Arin had put his laptop aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs.

“It's... before I say anything else, I want you to know that I hope you can still be friends with me, after... after I tell you this.” Dan glanced at Arin's face, and he stopped.

Arin's expression was completely still, and he was staring at Dan with a careful expression. It wasn't one that Dan was used to being on the receiving end of, and it chilled him. 

“Just get it the fuck over it, man,” Arin said, and his voice was shaking, which was scary. Dan wanted to just pretend none of this happened, none of it was a thing that had ever mattered, and go back to just... ignoring some of the stuff that went through his head when he jerked off, or when he was kissing Arin. 

But no, that would be unfair.

“Arin, I... I'm not a good person. I've been having these... thoughts lately.” 

“What kind of thoughts?” Arin was holding his own hands, twisting them around each other, and it was making his knuckles crack. It was putting Dan even more on edge than he usually was.

“Let me fuckin' finish, dude,” Dan snapped impatiently, then he groaned, because he wasn't trying to be like that. He wasn't trying to be scary or nasty. That was part of the problem in the firs place. “Sorry. Just, uh... antsy.”

“Trust me, probably not half as antsy as I am,” said Arin, his voice tight.

Okay. Here it went.

“I've been having these.... fantasies. Like, about....” Dan took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “and at first it was just, like... simple stuff, like... seeing you crying maybe, or spanking you, but it's gotten... it's gotten worse.” Dan had begun pacing again – when had he begun pacing? He didn't remember that. But he stopped again, putting his face in his hands. “I... I want to hurt you, Arin. Like, really hurt you. Punch you in the face, or kick you, or slap you, or... or a ton of other stuff, that's just....” Dan made an anguished noise. “I don't do that! I don't hit people, I don't hurt people, that's not who I am, and now I've got all of this shit in my head about you, sometimes even about _Suzy_ , and I know I'm not safe to be around, I'm gonna....”

Dan was interrupted by Arin's chest. More specifically, he was interrupted by Arin getting up and pressed Dan's face into his chest. He was holding the back of Dan's head with one of his big hands, the other one pressing into Dan's lower back. 

“So when you wanna hurt me, are you angry?” Arin's voice rumbled through his chest, and Dan sighed, shivering. He couldn't let himself accept the embrace. Not when he was that kind of person. 

“What?” Dan blinked at Arin. He hadn't expected that reaction. He wasn't entirely sure what reaction he'd been expecting. Maybe horror? Then again, this was Arin. He was all into the weird kinky shit.

But when Dan was imagining it, it didn't feel like the kinky stuff they'd done. It wasn't awkward or kinda sweet – it felt primal, deep. Terrifying. 

“When you're daydreaming about, like, punching me, are you mad at me? Is it, like, 'Yeah, I'm gonna show that twat a lesson and it makes my dick hard?'” Arin wasn't letting go of Dan – his hands were curled into the leather of his jacket. 

“Well, no,” Dan admitted. “Mostly it's, uh... honestly, mostly it's 'cause I think it's really hot. The idea of your nose bleeding, the idea, of, like... you... crying.” Dan kept his face down, staring down at Arin's black shirt. He hated this. He hated being like this – he hated being someone who wanted to hurt people. He always thought of himself as a pacifist. 

“So you're getting off on the idea of me being all beaten up.” Arin shrugged. “Dude, that doesn't make you a bad person. You're not trying to, like, I dunno, cleanse the earth of the unclean or some creepy shit like that.” He cupped Dan's cheek, smiling in a way that could be mistaken for tender. “Would you wanna punch some random dude in the face?”

“Fuck no,” Dan said, and he realized that he didn't. He'd been so concerned about how horny the idea of hurting Arin had made him, he hadn't really thought about it. 

“Would you ever want to, like, kill me?” Arin didn't sound scared, which was strange, considering he was asking a guy who fucked his wife if he would ever kill him. 

“Oh fuck, no, no,” Dan mumbled, and he pressed his forehead against Arin's allowing himself to be comforted, even though he knew he didn't deserve it. “I'd... I'd never do that. Ever.”

“So you're not dangerous.” Arin sounded like he was about to start laughing, which made no sense. “Fuck, dude.” He let go of Dan, curling over on himself and laughing. He was really laughing, the kind of laughing that makes it nearly impossible to stand up straight. He was laughing so hard that there were tears dripping down his face.

“Dude? I'm talking about my personal demons. A fucking identity crisis that's fucking me up, and you're laughing?” Dan prodded Arin in the shin with his boot. “What's so fucking funny?” 

“Only you, Dan,” said Arin, breathing heavily and leaning against the couch. “Dude, you're a sadist. You're not like, a serial killer or something like that.”

“You say sadist like it's something normal. That isn't normal! Isn't that, like, a sign of being a serial killer or something?” Dan shoved his hands into his pockets. Well, at least Arin didn't hate him. That was something. Although all of this was immensely confusing. 

“So is wetting the bed, dude, but you don't see me going out and torturing animals or shit like that,” said Arin. He sat back on the couch, looking incredibly amused. 

“You were a bed wetter? Do you think that's the origin of your diaper thing?” Dan sat down as well, for lack of anything better to do. 

“That's not important right now,” Arin said hurriedly, and Dan had to smirk. At least he wasn't the only one who was weird about this shit. “And I mean, how would you feel if I said yes to you beating me up like that? Like, the more... extreme stuff, I guess.”

Dan stopped breathing for a second, his feet planted firmly on the floor. The boots were anchoring him, keeping him in one place. That had to be the reason why he wasn't just flying apart into a million pieces. “You mean you'd let me, like, punch you in the face?”

“I'd make you take a class on how to do that first, but if I knew you weren't gonna break my nose, I'd be game,” Arin said. He shrugged, smiling at Dan. “As long as you stop when I say stop, or red, or whatever, I think I'm good.” 

“Would you... would you enjoy it?” It was Dan's turn to twist his fingers together, making a noise like a collection of twigs being broken. 

“I like it when I get, like, spanked and shit. Besides, how much damage could you _actually_ do, with your fuckin' pipe cleaner self?” Arin raised an eyebrow at Dan, grinning suggestively. 

“I could do plenty of damage,” Dan said defensively. “I could probably, like, break your face if I really wanted to.” 

And then Arin was in Dan's personal space, all up in his face, nose to nose. “Oh yeah? Do you really think so?” His breath was hot across Dan's face, rustling his hair. 

“Yeah,” Dan said, and he was panting now. He wanted it so much – he could feel his fists tightening up, the energy surging up his arms. He wanted to hurt Arin. He wanted to break him so badly, break him and put him back together, kiss him bloody and hold him and hurt him again. It was... it was terrifying, and exhilarating at the same time. He could feel his heart pounding, hard enough that he was surprised it hadn't split through his ribs. 

“You wanna break my face?” Arin's breathing was heavily, and he looked... aroused, which was confusing. Who could ever want to be hurt like that? 

But this was Arin, and Arin was... Arin was safe. Arin didn't lie, not about this shit. 

“I wanna break your face,” Dan murmured, and then he lunged forward, pressing his mouth against Arin's, nipping at his lips, then kissing him, jamming his tongue into Arin's mouth and grabbing Arin's hair in his own hands, twisting it around and around his fingers. He tightened it, and he moaned into Arin's mouth when he cried out pressing closer, until he was chest to chest with Arin, as close as he could possibly get without climbing into his skin.

“Fuck, dude, you don't mess around,” Arin mumbled, pulling back. His lips were red and swollen, his eyes wide and dark. “Do you really want to hurt me?” 

“So fucking much,” Dan groaned, pressing his face into Arin's neck. He bit him, sucking like a vampire, until Arin was pounding on his side to get him to let go. 

“Christ dude, I should've known you were a fuckin' sadist,” Arin said, pressing his finger into the bruise that was already forming and wincing. “The way you mark me up.”

“S-sorry,” Dan said, looking at his hands. As fucking amazing as all of this, he could already feel the shame starting to climb up his spine, poison his body like an oil slick.

“Don't be,” Arin said. “I think it's fuckin' hot. Hell, Suzy thinks it's fuckin' hot. It's really fuckin' hot.” He glanced down at Dan's long, bony fingers, then back up at Dan's face, smiling like trouble. “Do you wanna hit me now?”

“W-what?” Dan took a deep breath, his cock twitching in his pants. Fuck was he hard. He was overheated – he slid his jacket off, the cooler air a welcome relief on his hot skin. “You'd... you want me to hit you?”

“I mean, you obviously really wanna hit me,” said Arin. “I'd be totally up for it. Just, uh... if you're gonna hit my face, can you try not to break anything?” He chuckled nervously. “I don't wanna have to explain to the Lovelies why I've got a broken nose.”

“Got it,” Dan said. He remembered a few stage classes, where they'd taught stuff, like how to properly hit someone. Always aim for the jaw, but don't go too hard. That was the main rule. “Are you ready?”

Arin tilted his chin out, offering Dan his cheek, and Dan took a deep breath, licking his lips. He held Arin's chin in one hand, and he drew his other hand back. He hesitated a moment, and then he brought it down, hitting Arin square across the cheek. The impact was hard enough to momentarily numb the palm of Dan's hand, sending a jolt up his arm, then a series of tingles. It felt... it felt like his first orgasm, or the first time he'd picked up a guitar. The first time he'd kissed Arin.

“Fuck,” Arin groaned, trying to curl forward. But Dan was holding on to his chin, and so he instead met Dan's eyes. 

“Fuck,” Dan groaned, a heartfelt groan. It sounded like he was getting his dick sucked, not shaking a bit of feeling into his fingers. “The other side, can I do the other side, please?” He was begging. He was fucking begging, how could he be fucking begging?

“Please,” Arin said, he voice a bit shaky. The pale skin on his cheek was already starting to swell, a red mark where you could count each individual finger of Dan's hand. 

“Say it again,” Dan growled. He actually growled. He didn't know who this was, or what he was doing. He was scared, and so turned on that it actually hurt. 

“Please... please hit me,” said Arin, his breath coming in sharp bursts. “Please hit me... Daddy,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

Dan moaned again, the words like a shock to his dick. He drew his hand back, and he hit Arin, harder this time. It was hard enough that, if Dan hadn't been holding on to Arin's chin, Arin's head would have been forced back. 

“Fuck,” Arin groaned, one hand going up to rub the spore spot, pressing on it. “Okay, uh, Dan, that's awesome, but, uh....” Arin laughed, a bit hysterically. “No more on the face, please.” 

“Shit, shit,” Dan said, and it was his turn to grab Arin, pressing their foreheads together. “I'm sorry, man, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit so hard.”

Arin was shaking his head, his eyes squeezed shut. “Give it a second,” he said to Dan, a little louder, a bit louder than necessary. “My ear is ringing.” 

“Oh fuck,” Dan said, and he seemed to withdraw, pulling into himself. He was a horrible person. He was a horrible person, and he was so lucky to have Arin, but how could Arin stand him, when he wanted to hurt people like this? 

“Dude, it's fine,” said Arin, wrapping an arm around Dan's shoulders. He kissed Dan on the temple, leaning his cheek against Dan's. His skin was hot, throbbing. “You aimed a bit high. It's no big deal.” 

“You sure? I don't wanna, like, make you, go blind or deaf or something,” said Dan. “Do you want to, uh... do you want me to give you a blow job or something?” It was a pretty fair trade – Dan felt like he was gonna cum if he touched his dick, even through his jeans. He was also getting incredibly fond of sucking Arin's cock. Definitely in the top five of sexual acts these days. 

“I....” Arin licked his lips, looking faintly embarrassed himself. “You mentioned wanting to kick me, right?” He was rubbing his hands together, rocking back and forth. The hand prints on his cheeks stood out like brands. 

“Yeah,” Dan admitted. “Since I got the boots. I was, um... I was imagining leaving boot prints on you.” He wanted to cover his face – this was just too... weird. and not a safe kind of weird – if this was a television show, this shit would have been proof that he was the serial killer or the rapist or some shit like that. 

“I'd like that,” Arin said, and he was fumbling for his words a bit. “But, uh... could I call you Daddy while you did it? Maybe you could be mean to me?” He was rubbing the back of his neck, blushing pink. It made the hand prints disappear a bit, blending in to all the other pink. 

“What kinda mean?” This wasn't going where Dan had expected it to go. His dick was harder than he thought was possible. 

“Well, like... you could make me lick your boots, maybe make me hump it?” Arin was avoiding Dan's gaze, and that was funny, in a weird way. They'd flipped roles, the anxious pervert and the amused partner. “They're, uh... they're really sexy boots.”

Danny looked down at his boots. They were blue Doc Martens. Shit kicking boots, in his favorite color. He wasn't usually one for this kinda thing, but they were on sale. As soon as he'd slid them onto his feet, all he could imagine was grinding them into Arin's face. 

“They're pretty sexy,” Dan agreed, and he bit his lip, thinking. “I'm... I don't know how good I can be at being mean, but I can try it? I do like you calling me Daddy, though.” He swallowed thickly, feeling like the dirtiest of perverts. “If, uh... if I'm gonna kick you, you need to get on the ground.”

“Oh. Oh, right, Daddy,” said Arin, and his voice had changed. He was horny – he had the slightly goofy expression he always got when his dick had most of the blood in his brain, and his voice had gone down half an octave. But he was also... he looked scared. He looked horny and he looked scared, and Dan wanted... Dan didn't entirely know what he wanted. 

Dan stood up – as always, it felt like unfolding. Unfolding like a fucking deck chair. He stretched, looking down at Arin. Arin who was sitting cross legged on the floor in his basketball shorts, acres of white thighs and the knuckle-y softness of his feet. 

“I'm, uh... I'm gonna kick you in the thighs,” said Dan. “The outer bits, I mean.” He prodded Arin in the leg. “But you should, um... you should thank me for it. You should thank your Daddy for it.” His dick was so hard in his jeans, it almost felt like a separate part of his body, something thick and throbbing, like a broken limb or a rotten tooth. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” Arin said meekly, and that was fucking weird. Arin didn't usually do meek. 

“No, properly,” said Dan, and he balanced somewhat precariously on one leg, nudging at Arin's cheek with his boot. “L-kick my boots.” He watched as Arin scrambled to his belly to nuzzle his cheek against Dan's boot, and he felt something desperate in his gut twist, like a fishhook. This wasn't what he was expecting. This was nowhere near what he'd been expecting. 

Arin was licking the top of Dan's boot, leaving the blue leather shiny and slick. He kept glancing up at Danny, then making more of a show of it, pressing little kisses up to the laces, then licking the toe. He even kissed along the rubber edge of it, kissing at the beginning of the sole. 

“That's right,” Dan said, and he felt _powerful_. The kind of powerful that should have been making him uncomfortable in his pacifist's guts, but was instead making him horny, the kind of horny that usually resulted in him hitting himself in the fucking face with his own jizz. An idea seized him, and he didn't think, just... acted.

Arin made a strange kind of gasping noise when Danny lifted his foot up, resting it on top of Arin's head. It was a bit like a moan, a bit like a whimper, and Dan lifted his foot up, already terrified that he'd overstepped some bound. But no, Arin was putting his head to the side, resting his cheek on the floor, his fist right up by his chin. “P-please,” he mumbled, shivering. “Please, please, please....”

Dan wasn't thinking – he pressed his boot into Arin's face, digging in with just enough pressure to make Arin whimper, his fingers twitching convulsively. Arin was gasping, his hips wriggling against the floor, and that was unexpected. When Dan pulled his boot back up, there was a boot mark on Arin's cheek, to match the hand print that was still there, barely fading.

“Roll onto your back,” Dan said, his voice rough. “Let Daddy see how much you want this.”

“So much,” Arin groaned, doing as instructed. He was flat on his back now, his whole body tense. His shorts had ridden up, and Dan could see the very bottom of Arin's balls through one huge leg hole.

“I'm gonna, um, pause this for a sec,” said Dan, feeling self conscious. “Can you get your balls someplace where I won't kill them?” He didn't want to cause any permanent damage, especially to a part of Arin he was becoming increasingly more comfortable and interested in. 

“Yeah, good idea,” Arin said, and there was a nervous edge to his voice. “I'm gonna try to, uh... keep them in the middle. But can you check before you kick?” He was rearranging things between his legs, his cock still tenting his shorts, but his balls now safely between is legs. 

“Are you ready now?” Dan was tapping against Arin's thigh with the very tip of his boot, little swishes of his foot. When Arin nodded, he drew back – barely - and kicked. 

He hadn't thought it was much of a kick – the majority of the power was in his ankle, so it wasn't like he'd punted into Arin's thigh. But Arin seemed to disagree, judging by the way he cried up, pounding his fist on the floor. Yeah, it was a good thing it was such a weird hour, or their downstairs neighbors would probably wondering what the fuck was going up. As if they didn't already. 

“Fuck, Dan,” Arin groaned, covering his face. “Daddy, oh god, fuck....”

“Was that too much?” Dan looked down at Arin, afraid of reproach, afraid he'd caused some real damage, afraid something had gone wrong in a way that couldn't ever be fixed.

“No,” said Arin, gasping. “Just a lot more... intense than I thought it'd be.” He straightened his legs out, breathing heavily through his mouth. “P-please do it again, Daddy. Just maybe not in the same spot?” 

Dan kicked him again, and it was sweet, like your first bite of ice cream or the blast of air conditioner in the hot summer. He chose a meatier part of Arin's thigh, and he kicked with his toe again. He loved how powerful it made him feel, even as it frightened him, and he kept kicking, switching legs, sometimes switch techniques. He used his heel a few time, and the side of the boot, slapping it. 

The bruises were already forming, dark red to start with, blooming on Arin's pale skin like so many wild roses. That was a cliche if ever he'd heard one, and Danny snickered to himself, then began to laugh. He was happy. He was genuinely happy. This was... this was satisfying, on some really deep level that he didn't entirely want to examine, because it was terrifying, but holy fuck was it amazing.

“Are you enjoying yourself there?” Dan rested his foot on Arin's thigh, pressing down. He could actually feel the muscle moving under his foot, displacing. He looked over at Arin's face, and found it rapturous – rapture from pain, or rapture from pleasure? A bit carefully, he nudged Arin's dick with the very tip of his boot, and got a groaning, gasping response.

“Okay, uh, Dan? No CBT tonight, please.” Arin's voice was strained, gasping, and he groaned harder when Dan's heel ground into the soft meat of his inner thigh. “Fuck, Dan, oh god... okay, red. I need... fuck....” 

“Are you okay?” Dan dropped to the floor with a “thump,” kneeling next to Arin. “Are you okay? Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?” He sounded so ridiculous. He knew he was sounding ridiculous. “Please, just... please, just tell me.”

“Dan, I'm fine,” Arin said, sitting up on his elbows. “But I think I'm done being a doormat for the moment.” He grinned, his face swollen, with a few tear tracks, and Dan felt something in his heart break in an indescribable way. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't ever want to stop. 

Arin all but tackled Dan, forcing him back against he couch. He straddled Dan, wincing theatrically, and ground his cock against Dan's belly. “I need you,” Arin mumbled into Dan's hair. “Please, just... take your dick out, please, fuck....”

“H-hold on a sec,” Dan mumbled, fumbling his zipper open, then wriggling around to get his dick out, the head wet and sticky against his fist. “I've... fuck, Arin.” The fabric of Arin's football shorts felt strange against his dick, the mesh slippery and warm. 

Arin pulled his own cock out, holding them together and jerking them clumsily. He was rocking his hips forward, and Dan rocked his hips back, trying to keep things in tandem, trying to make it make sense. He grabbed Arin by the hair, pulling his face closer, kissing him and biting at his lips. 

Dan was going to cum. He was going to cum fast, and he was going to cum hard. By the way Arin was jerking against him, he wasn't going to cum alone. He wanted to hold out, wanted to not cum until Arin came, wanted to feel Arin's cum against his own cock. But that wasn't... that wasn't going to be an option, because his orgasm was crashing down on him like a wave, and he had no choice but to be tossed ass over teakettle.

Without thinking, Dan took a piece of Arin's cheek in his mouth and bit down, his jaw flexing as he rode out his orgasm, spurting across their hands, across both of their stomachs. They were going to have to change their shirts before going home, if that was an option. Dan didn't care. He bit harder as the last aftershock hit him, and then he let go.

“Fuck, Dan, that was my f-fucking... fuck, that was my _face_ ,” Arin groaned, but he was cumming as well, and Dan kept his eyes on Arin's face, because it was beautiful when he came. Especially with the big bite mark. 

Wait, bite mark?

“I staid not the face,” Arin grumbled, gently probing the sore spot on his cheek. That was going to blossom into one hell of a bruise, and Dan hated how much he wanted to see that. 

“Shit,” Dan murmured, and he pressed his face into Arin's shoulder. He was shaking, he realized in a distant sort of way. He was shaking hard enough that it was difficult to not unseat Arin from his lap. He didn't know where the shaking was coming from, but there was a pit of cold in his stomach that seemed to be expanding, filling him up. 

“Oh, fuck, no, Dan, it's okay,” murmured Arin, holding Dan closer. He wrapped his arms around Dan's shoulder, pulling him closer as Dan kept shaking, his teeth chattering. 

“I'm s-s-sorry,” Dan murmured, clutching at Arin. “I'm s-sorry I needed that, or that I liked it or... s-something, I d-d-dunno.” He had to be careful not to bite his tongue now, his teeth were chattering that hard. Were those tears tracking down his face? Why was he crying?

“Hey. Hey,” Arin whispered. “I'm gonna go get you the blanket from the grump room, okay? Can you stay here for, like, ten seconds? I'll be right back.” He got up on his feet, groaning, and Dan could see the bruises on his legs already starting to purple, which made it worse – he was dimly aware that he was crying, actual noisy crying, shaking crying, and that wasn't right either, was it? Shouldn't it have been Arin that needed to be given all the attention and whatnot? 

Dan stared down at his boots. They... it had been amazing, but he needed them of. He needed is feet to be free. He needed to not see the things he had used to hurt his friend, or lover, or... something. Something important. His hands were shaking so hard that it made it difficult, but managed to get the laces to the left one undone when Arin came back, holding a bottle of water and a blanket. He had lost his shirt, and tucked his dick back into his pants. 

“Lemme help you with that,” Arin said, dropping the blanket on the floor and setting down the water bottle. He smiled at Dan, grinning a bit. “That was pretty awesome, wasn't it?” The bite on his cheek was like a beacon. A purpling beacon, to match the one on his neck. He made quick work of the boots, pulling them off of Dan's feet and leaving him in just his socks.

“Y-you liked it?” Dan pulled his own shirt off, the cum making it sticky. He wrapped the blanket around himself, shivering harder, and sighed, leaning back against the couch. At least Arin didn't hate him. 

“Totally,” said Arin. “Although, uh, next time, maybe give me a heads up that they're steel toed?” He cuddled closer to Dan, sneaking under the blanket. He grabbed the water one handed, opening it, then handing it to Dan. “Drink.” 

“They're steel toed?!” Another wash of guilt, hard enough that he spilled the water across his chest. 

“Shit, you didn't know?” Arin took the water from his hands, setting it aside. He hugged Dan sideways, his bulky warm body anchoring Dan to the present. “Ha! Only you, Dan.”

“S-sorry,” he managed to chatter out. “I'm so sorry. For... for all of this.”

“It's totally fine,” said Arin, and he kissed Dan on the temple. “Although I'm impressed. This is, like, the worse case of Top drop I've ever seen.” 

“T-Top drop?” Dan leaned his head against Arin's shoulder, snuggling in. The shaking was starting to die down at least. “I thought only Bottoms or subs or whatever were the only ones who got dropped.”

“Nah, Tops and whatnot can totally freak out. You feeling guilty or some shit like that?” Arin bumped his head against Dan's affectionately, like a cat. “You don't have to. I'll be fine. Suzy's beaten me up before.” He sighed. “Although never this thoroughly. That was fucking awesome.” 

Dan let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes. “Is there, uh, is there anything you need?” He kissed Arin's cheek, feeling sentimental and a bit loopy. “I mean, since you just Bottomed. Are you gonna get drop?”

“We should get some food,” said Arin. “I think that's what I need.” He glanced sidelong at Dan. “If you wanna you, can, uh... you can stay over.”

“Suzy wouldn't mind?” This felt like new territory. Complicated new territory. 

“Nah, she likes you. She might wanna hear the story behind all of this.” Dan gestured vaguely at the marks on his face. “Although next time, let's do a bit of research first.”

“Sounds good,” Dan sighed, standing up. His knees popped. He glanced down at the boots, which were sitting there innocently enough. Those, at least had been a good purchase.

“You're really good at that,” Arin said, digging around for an extra shirt. 

“Hm?” Dan pulled his leather jacket on – it wasn't a shirt, but at least he looked more artfully disheveled. He could probably get away with not wearing shoes, as long as nobody looked too closely. He wasn't entirely up for putting his boots back on just yet. 

“The topping. It suits you.” Arin grinned at Dan, the dark mark on his cheek shifting with the smile.

Dan blushed, beginning to walk towards the door. “You're gorgeous,” he told Arin, feeling self conscious but also content. “Fuckin' crazy, but gorgeous.”

“I know,” Arin said cheerfully, and that settled it.

**Author's Note:**

> The whole 'I didn't know these were steel toed' thing is possibly based on true events.


End file.
